


Fanged

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Attempted date rape by third party, But there's mentions, M/M, Mentions of AIDs crisis, Mentions of date rape drugs, Vampires, it does not happen, obviously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:45:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Poe finds himself saved from an attack. By... a vampire?





	1. Chapter 1

Poe doesn’t get much time to himself, really. His job has him travelling all over. Sure, he’ll be stationed some places for months on end, but then there’s uprooting and moving, and so it’s not really fair to make any serious connections. He has his squad, and that’s it.

Plus, you know, even with it being fine to be out of the closet, there’s still plenty of homophobia. He knows his own squadron don’t care one bit these days, but the wider military aren’t always as forgiving. He hears snickers in locker rooms and shower blocks. He knows there’s people who would ask him to ‘deal’ with things while he’s bent to tie his bootlaces, and then slap him after he’d blown them, if he so much as made eye-contact once he’d swallowed.

It’s not the kind of life he’d bring anyone into. 

Still. A man got needs. 

He’s been here for - oh - longer than most places. There’s one gay bar, and a few gay friendly places. Sometimes he’ll go with team mates, but mostly because he wants someone to talk to. Snap doesn’t mind it when people assume he’s a bear and try to jump up on him, and Jess loves to flirt with girls a little more than Poe thinks is _strictly_ heterosexual, but he wouldn’t ask her if it’s her thing. If she wants to tell, she can tell. If she just wants to make out in the quiet corners of a bar, who is he to judge?

This bar is a bit on the grimy side. Sticky surfaces. Thrumming, slightly cliche music. Overpriced beer. There’s some skeevy men trying to hit on lesbians (why?), and some guys who let their eyes linger on him. 

He knows it’s very - uh - Top Gun, or Barney Stintson if he lets people know what he does for a living, but there’s not that many big employers around, and new faces who didn’t grow up a stone’s throw away only come from a handful of places. He doesn’t need to hide his career, but he isn’t going to advertise it, either. His fingernail catches on the wrinkling paper of his beer bottle, and he sees a broad-shouldered man in too-tight jeans raking his clothes off with his eyes. 

Not bad. Worth at least a drink or two. Poe gives him the slight smile of ‘yes, you can buy me a drink’, and the man comes over.

***

“What?”  


“You need to go home.”  


“Huh?” Poe doesn’t understand. He was in the bar. He was… where is he? He can’t hear the music, but he can feel the dampness of wet brickwork pressed to his ass, and he runs his tongue over his lips.  


“…where is home?” the voice asks.  


It’s familiar, urgent, low. It’s not the guy he was eyeing up in the bar, but when he looks up - and up - he recognises the guy from a couple of weeks back. “You?”

“You were… the other guy wasn’t up to any good.”  


“Huh. Roofie?”  


Poe knows in theory that it can happen, but he’s always been one to hold onto his bottle, to keep his thumb over the mouth of it. He’s always been so very careful, and he wouldn’t let some asshole take advantage of him. He might be on the shorter side of tall, but he can handle himself.

Also, aren’t you supposed to stay out of it for longer? 

Where is the guy? Why does his neck feel… he lifts his hand, rubbing, and hisses in surprise.

The guy - Ky? Wasn’t that his name? - grabs his wrist and clutches it away from his neck, his expression suddenly… pinched and tight. “Don’t.”

“The hell happened to me? What did he slip me, and where is he?” Poe’s starting to panic, though he’s still fully dressed, and he doesn’t… _feel_ like anything got… you know. Touched. His ass feels fine, and he can’t taste semen on his lips, but… “If I’m bleeding, I need to get checked out.”  


Because there’s more than one way to pass on fluids, and if he’s… oh shit. If he’s been infected, or exposed, then he needs to be on anti retrovirals stat. It will be awful, and he’ll be… yeah. He’ll get the Talk. Plus, if there was any element of non-consent, he really needs to talk to the police. 

Why? Why did this have to happen? He’s _always_ so careful, and now he…

“You’re okay,” the man tells him. “He didn’t get far enough before I got to you.”  


“Dude, my skin’s broken. I need to get on meds. I also need to report an attempted… I need to report it.”  


The man lets go of his wrist, and Poe’s surprised how strong he is. Even though he looks it, he feels even _more_ powerful than he should. He reaches up again, feeling for the slight cut to his neck. 

“…and… I guess thank you, for saving my ass.”  


“I think I need to have a serious talk with you.”  


“And the police.”  


“…would you hear me out, first? There’s an all night diner across the street. You can listen to me in company, in public, and then decide if you want to call the cops.”  


Because he’s still standing in a dark alleyway with a man whose first name he sort of knows, and with a huge chunk of missing memory. Yes. Going somewhere well-lit and populated sounds good. “Okay.”

***

Ky doesn’t order anything, but Poe gets a pot of coffee and a slice of pie. He’s feeling shaken, and he hopes the sugar will help. His hand shakes as he pours out the creamer, and he smiles nervously over the table. They sit in a booth, away enough so their low conversation won’t be overheard by the staff, but close enough that he could yell for assistance.

He’s slowly coming to, and only feeling the light, lingering post-buzz of the booze, making him wonder what on earth was slipped in to make him forget the past… oh. Two hours. 

Poe pulls out his phone, and texts Snap, just so he doesn’t worry too much. But he also texts him his location, and that he’s with a guy, just in case.

Ky looks paler, in the artificial lighting in here. He doesn’t look at the food or drink, and his eyes keep sliding away as his throat swallows convulsively.

“You wanna tell me how you found me and decided to go all Prince Charming?” Poe asks, forking a nice selection of pie up and stuffing it in all at once.  


“I saw you in the bar. I saw who you were talking to. He’s not a good person, so I… followed you.”  


“You were watching me?”  


Ky nods.

“If he’s such bad people, why don’t you just report him to the cops? Even anonymously?”  


“Because he’s like me. I - wait - I don’t mean I do what he does, I mean…” Ky pulls his lips in. “Don’t scream.”  


“You’re not making a good case for your– holy shit!”  


The man’s irises go red as his incisors descend to twin points, then vanish again. It’s way too weird to be a trick, because he’s seen people wear fake fangs of course, every Hallowe’en, but this is different. 

“He’s like me. He didn’t put anything in your drink, he glamoured you. He was going to drain you when I found you.”  


Immediately, his fingers go up to his neck. Weirdly, though, the lacerations have healed. The blood’s dried and flaky, and he thinks maybe he’s tripping balls. “The hell, man?”

“You won’t catch anything from him. We can’t get sick, so you don’t need a panel, or any medication. He also - you won’t turn, don’t worry.”  


“You’re telling me you’re - uh - _Vampires_?”  


“…yes.”  


“And you want me not to scream for the police to get me to a hospital and check me for LSD why?”  


“Because if you try, I’ll make you forget like he did. It’s easy for us to do. You’ll just forget I was here, and wake up with coffee and pie.”  


“You’re… crazy, you know?” Or Poe is. “Why the hell did you stop him?”  


“Because… you’re good people. I could tell that when we met last time. Cal - the other guy - isn’t careful. He drinks people almost dry, and sometimes… takes advantage of them. I didn’t want that to happen to you.”  


“…did… are you saying when we…?”  


“I did drink from you, when we hooked up,” Ky admits. “Only a little. I take enough to survive, but not to incapacitate. But I didn’t glamour you into… what we did together. I just made you forget the feeding.”  


Okay, so now there’s a creepy, stalker Vampire who bit him when they had sex, and another one who wanted to half-drain him, and fuck him against his will? And Poe’s supposed to feel good about this - why? “This is not good. What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Thank you for stopping someone else raping me, but not get pissed you apparently _ate me_?”

“…I only drank a little, and it’s a pleasurable experience for you.”  


“You also wiped my memory.”  


“Self-preservation.”  


“Did you even ask my consent when you - you know?”  


“…for the sex, but not the other thing.”  


Poe doesn’t feel like eating. He pushes his plate away, and tries not to just… what? Hurl? Throw the pie at him? Scream blue murder?

“I’m sorry, Poe. I can make you forget everything if you want me to. You can just think you had a long night, and I’ll get you back to your room safely. I’ll keep other Vampires away, as long as you’re here. You don’t even need to know.”  


“…and go about living my life not knowing some weirdo stalker is lusting after my neck?”  


“…it’s not safe for me to be… open with people.”  


“But you’re telling me, now.”  


Ky looks away. “I… hoped you might consent.”

“Consent? To what?”  


“I don’t need much to survive. I would rather feed on willing people, but… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”  


“You want me to agree to you tapping a vein?”  


“I’m sorry. I can make you forget I–”  


“Don’t you make me forget anything. Not _one thing more_. Do you understand? I… I won’t report you to anyone, but don’t you **dare** alter my memory any more.”  


Ky nods, and shuffles. “Understood.”

“And… you know, I didn’t know Vampires were even real before today. Could… could you maybe leave me with that one, to see if I still believe it when I’m sober?”  


“…so… you’re not… necessarily opposed?”  


“Can you even - uh - be intimate and _not_ eat people?”  


Ky nods again, his eyes hopeful. “I could also refrain from feeding on you, if you… didn’t object to me doing so with others. If… you wanted to pursue anything.”

“Are you asking me out?” Poe can’t quite believe it. It’s the most ridiculous of come-ons he’s ever heard.  


“…yes?”  


“Okay. You’re going to escort me back to the base. You’re going to leave my mind intact. And then you’re going to wait and see if I come back to the bar. If I don’t, then you know I’m not interested.”  


“…and if I see you, I could… offer to buy you a drink?”  


“…yeah. But I’m… the whole you biting me bit? I’m not sure I’ll ever be okay with that.”  


“Fair. I promise I won’t interfere with your memory, not unless you’re about to endanger me. I can’t say I wouldn’t, then.”  


“…I suppose that’s fair, too.” This is absolutely insane. “And my other condition is you find a way to make Cal move on. Or… you know. Deal with it. I’m not comfortable with him preying on people.”  


“Leave that with me,” Ky promises. “Whether or not you show again.”  


Poe nods. Okay. He’s still going to get a blood panel done when he’s back. Just to be on the safe side, to make sure he’s not been given some psychotropic insanity. “This is not how I imagined my night going.”

“Me either.” Ky smiles weakly.  


“…I do have one question. Sunlight?”  


“I don’t explode, but I’m not happy in it. If I’m mostly clothed and stick to shade, I can survive.”  


“Okay. And if I need to protect myself against - you know - Cals?”  


“I can give you some information on that. I’d prefer it to be after we knew one another a bit better, so I know you won’t murder me next time we meet.”  


“Fair,” he agrees.  


Holy shit.

He’s thinking about dating a Vamp. Well, at least if he does, he’ll know Ky won’t take any homophobia lying down.

Ky pays for his meal, and calls up a cab. Poe feels sort of odd as they part, but… yeah. Maybe he should be more freaked out than he is.

It’s just hard to know how to react. Perhaps his day job has made him immune to real fear… But he’s almost certain, when he gets back to his bunk after the blood panel, that he’ll be going back to that bar soon, just so long as the tests come back fine.

He hopes it’s not more of that - what did he call it? Glamour? But it doesn’t feel like it is. After all, Ky could have had him back in his bed that night. It’s probably the only reason he’s sure his mind is his own.

All his dreams that night are bloody, but there’s no real fear at all. Just… hope, and arousal.

Yeah, he’s going back as soon as he can.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so it’s been a week. Enough time for Poe to get back the tox screen, and find nothing of interest. Snap’s bought the line about the roofie and the knight in shining armour, but he’s also now insisting he’s going to stick to him like glue if they go back to the bar.

Which is sweet, but if he intends on doing that forever, Poe will _never_ score. Although he does have someone waiting for him, if he didn’t hallucinate the entire diner conversation.

Vampires.

Nope. Doesn’t get any less weird when thinking about it a week later. Vampires, like... movie vampires. Biting people. Drinking blood. Hypnotising you. 

Poe has to wonder how many vampires actually exist, considering there’s at least two in this shithole of a place, and both of them are into guys. Sure, they might just not discriminate, but it does seem in a  place like this to be a higher ratio than...

Is he seriously rationalising this?

Snap says he’s going to the bathroom, and Poe doesn’t volunteer to follow him. He can tell Snap is waiting for that, but he just... needs some time without his best friend on his coat sleeve. His fingers slide over the beer bottle label, and he tries to use the reflective surfaces behind the bar to scope out the man he’s come to see.

At least part of him is waiting for him to appear in reverse, so he can snort and say the myth is busted. That would be nice. 

As it turns out, he still can’t tell for sure, because the asshole goes and approaches from a blind spot. “May I buy you a drink?”

May. What the hell kind of person says ‘may’, and doesn’t mean the month after April? Poe bites his lip, and tries to check for reflections more subtly. “Sure. Another of these?” he asks, and gestures with the bottle.

He _does_ exist, then, or Poe is hallucinating right now. The man – Ky – perches in the seat Snap vacated, and waves the bartender over. A brief transaction, and a second, chilled bottle sits in front of Poe. 

“You don’t drink?”

“Not in bars,” Ky answers. 

He could also have just hallucinated the fangs discussion, but that comment is entirely inkeeping with the whole... mythos. 

“So. Our last... conversation. I didn’t hit my head, and imagine it?”

Ky turns in his seat, curling his lip up to show one sharp, white incisor. Far too sharp to be normal. “I think you can tell for yourself.”

Right. Poe sees Snap heading towards them, and cringes. “Gotta convince Snap you’re not bad news.”

“Understood.”

His burly friend claps a hand on his shoulder when he gets close enough. “So, buddy, how about we make tracks?”

“I’m okay for a while,” Poe says, with a shake of his head. “But if you wanna call a cab for yourself?”

Trust Snap to offer him a way out that isn’t ‘his’ fault. He’s far too kind, and the best friend a guy could want. Lots of pilots wouldn’t want to associate so closely to a known gay man, in case they were mistaken for one themselves. Not Snap.

“You sure? It’s taco night...”

“Snap, this is Ky. He’s the guy I told you about, the one who kicked the other guy to the curb for me.”

“Aha, so I don’t need to kneecap him? Great.” Snap shoves his hand firmly out towards Ky.

“I should hope not. And I consider myself shovel-talked, too. Don’t worry, I have absolutely no intention of taking advantage of your friend.”

“Shame, I think he’d kind of like that, but who am I to judge?” Snap quips, shaking, and withdrawing his hand. “Okay. I’m not gonna cramp your style. I’m gonna finish my drink and call a cab in fifteen minutes. Poe, if you want to come with then... you just meet me outside. Alright?”

“Alright,” Poe  thanks him. “I’ll text you.”

“Make sure you do.”

Snap gives one last, lingering, warning look, and then wanders off with his own beer from the right of Poe. 

“It’s good that your friends look out for you.”

“Yeah, though he’s over-eager because of last time. I mean, normally I’m pretty okay and safe, but...”

“You couldn’t really protect yourself against a glamour,” Ky tells him.

“...not at all?”

“Well, not without knowing that it could happen. I can help you with some protective methods, for the future.”

A vampire. He’s being chatted up by a vampire, who is giving him personal safety tips. Poe gulps another swig from the first beer bottle, emptying it, and grabs the second. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“I...” Ky shuffles. “Uh. I realise I could just have made you forget everything, but... I had a good time with you. I thought I could... test your reaction. See if you... were interested.”

“So, you liked me, but you waited until your pal was trying to snack on me?”

“I didn’t see you with him until it was too late. I’d...” He ducks his head, and his hair obscures his face. “I was... embarrassed. I didn’t want you to realise I’d been following you, while I tried to work up the courage to approach you again.”

“...that isn’t making me feel much better, you know,” Poe says, fighting a little flush to his cheeks. “Except the part where you were interested. That bit’s fine, it’s the stalking bit that I’m less into.” Or sort of into, in theory, but maybe not in practice.

“Normally I just... feed and move on,” Ky admits. “But I really liked you. And I knew I had to tell you the truth, if we... went anywhere.”

Poe swirls the neck of the beer bottle between his fingers. “Can I ask you personal questions?”

“Can I, too?”

A snort, and he nods. “That’s only fair, I guess.”

“You go first.”

Poe wonders how rude this is, but he has to know: “How old _are_ you?”

“Sixty-three. I’m young, in vampire terms.”

“Right. And you guys... live forever unless you’re killed?”

“Yes, there’s some of us who are literally hundreds of years old.”

Okay, so, long term commitment, like a turtle. The image jumps in unbidden, and he gestures with his bottle before taking a swig.

“You’re a pilot, I assume?” Ky asks.

“Yeah. Single.”

“But... looking?”

“I wasn’t, because there’s still a lot of flak. But then, I guess your social security would look odd, if we did...”

“I have enough current ID to pass. Not enough to get a job _in_ the military, but to get a job in most places.”

“And you already said you don’t drink, I’m guessing you don’t eat... ever?”

“I... can do, but it’s not really enjoyable. It sits uncomfortably in my stomach. If I have to snack to pass as Human, I can do, but I prefer not to.”

“And feeding?”

“Minimum of once a week to keep healthy. We can go longer, but it’s unpleasant, and we’d need more when we did.”

No one is close enough to overhear, and Poe is infinitely grateful. This is so weird. 

“You... should ask me things, too?” he says, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“Well... I was hoping you might like to... go on a date some time?”

It’s clear Ky is trying for smooth, suave, sophisticated. Sixty-three he might be, but a natural he is not. His mouth is twitching, and his knee jiggling, and he’s fighting to stay still. 

“Okay, I’ll go on a date with you, but with three conditions.”

“Yes?”

“One: you promise me no mind-wiping stuff. I’m not going to tell anyone about you, or report you, or anything.”

“Agreed.”

“Two: you tell me stuff we need to avoid, and you agree to let me know how to defend myself, and identify other vampires, in case I need to know.”

“...also agreed.”

“And three: uhm... you pick the date.” So he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Also, also agreed,” Ky says, smiling. “Can I give you my number?”

Poe pulls out his phone, and waits. He types the digits in, and sends a single emoji face as a text. Can’t hurt to let him call. He can always block the number if he needs to. That done, he downs his drink.

“Do you dance?”

“I try to.”

“Come on, old man. Show me your moves.” Poe’s only lightly buzzed, but he wants to stop drinking while he’s still ahead of the ballgame. Plus, he wants to see this tall streak of danger _move_. His memories of their last hookup are blurry at best, so he’s going to keep his head this time.

Or that’s the plan.


	3. Chapter 3

Poe can dance. He’s always been co-ordinated, and good at rhythms. In a way, that’s what flying is, but your body extends into sheet metal and roaring engine, the rhythm is set by the other things in the air, and you move so fast your ears don’t so much as pop as stay on the ground waiting for you to return. He pulls more Gs than he should, but it’s what gives him a reason to get up in the morning.

In the air, Poe is free. 

Dancing is the third-best thing for that feeling. The second, of course, being damn good sex. 

The music here isn’t really ideal for dancing to, but he’s had a few beers, and he’s feeling a little on the edge because – hey – _vampire_? If such a thing is even possible, which... Why isn’t he more freaked out?

Poe can remember when he believed in everything, in all those stories shared around under blankets with flashlights and stolen snacks. The surety that his toys would come alive when he wasn’t looking, and that he could talk to birds if he just _tried hard enough_. Magic and aliens and dragons and talking cars and monsters under the bed. 

He likes to pretend he never _really_ believed in all that, but he did. Now he can’t remember _why_ , because he ‘understands’ the world. Why would standing on the cracks between paving stones be a curse? Why would birds – with their smaller brains – be hiding the fact they could talk? No reason other than that he’d wanted it to be true.

But vampires.

It makes next to no sense, or does it? There’s people who can bend their joints in absolutely ridiculous directions. People who eat bricks. People whose skin blisters in the sun. Why wouldn’t vampirism be possible, as a disease? Just because it isn’t ‘known’, but... why would they want to be known?

Ky could definitely be one, from the pale, silvery skin. His hair – long and clipped back – is just unusual enough to pass, but could easily have walked right out of the Renaissance, if he hadn’t admitted to being less than a hundred. His clothes are maybe a bit dated, but in that ‘so retro it’s bordering on cool’ way. Poe watches the tall man walk a little awkwardly onto the sticky area that sort of passed as a dance floor, and grins.

“Are you trying to be endearing, or...?”

“Normally I put a minor glamour on people so they think I look smooth,” he admits. “I haven’t – uh – without it in... forever?”

That’s just adorable, and Poe can’t fight the massive grin. “Well... you’re gonna need to practice, then, aren’t you? C’mon. It’s _confidence_.”

He’s giving a pep talk to a man almost twice his age, what the fuck. Poe shimmies his ass a bit harder than he should, and snaps his fingers left and right. 

“What you call ‘confidence’, I call ‘convulsions’,” Ky complains, but then he starts to move. 

At first, it’s not smooth at all. It’s the kind of awkward Dad Dancing you get at weddings and office Christmas parties. He sucks his lower lip in, trying not to laugh, and then his eyebrows reach up as Ky starts to really move. 

The man’s eyes are closed, an intent little frown between his brows. He’s really focussing, and then his swaying starts to widen, his whole body giving over to the music. It’s certainly something, and the goofy awkwardness melts (or maybe Poe’s just drunk enough). He steps in close, and sashays around him, seeing Snap lingering at the corner of the room.

Trust his friend to not _leave_. He’s still being wingman, and Poe nods and smiles, making sure Snap is reassured. There’s no harm in dancing, and he turns to wiggle his ass in Ky’s direction. There’s a light brush, and he sees the contact’s wrenched him almost out of the zone, but Poe keeps going, and Ky eventually continues. 

Dancing is great.

***

Snap finally leaves somewhere before the really campy shit comes on, and Poe strides to the bar, knowing Ky will follow. He feels weirdly... empowered? Because that later part – when Ky let go – had been his doing. He’d brought that out in him, and it felt good to be so free. 

He grabs a bottled water, and cocks his head to the door. 

“You wanna get some air?”

“I’d love to.”

***

Poe takes him to the bus station, figuring there’s enough people close by that if anything happened, someone might notice. If not, the CCTV would help them track him down. He’s almost certain Ky wouldn’t hurt him, but it still pays to be as safe as possible about these things. 

The half-empty bottle hangs between his fingers, the contents sloshing. His belly feels full, and he’s only drinking to stave off the potential hangover in the morning. Poe looks at the sodium lighting, and the people shuffling into the night. Most of them drunk, some of them... just wanting to get far, far away.

“Can I ask how it happened?”

“Yeah. I... uh. Back then, in the eighties, it wasn’t as accepting, you know? Gay people existed, but you could still get your head kicked in, and then... then AIDs kicked whoever survived...”

Poe of course knows in theory all about that, but it must have been much worse then. When you could have a death sentence passed to you, just for loving. Even now, the fear of disease keeps him on edge with partners, but then?

“Someone you knew?”

Ky nods, and draws his knees to his chest. “Yeah. Quite a few, but one... yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Then this guy comes in – older, and... I dunno. Maybe I was drunk, or high, or maybe he just straight up fucked my head over. I was a mess, and he said... he said, if I could save anyone from dying like that, would I? And I said of course I would.”

“Cure them... by turning them?”

Ky looks up, tucking hair behind an ear. “We were a small enough community anyway. I was terrified I’d die, terrified everyone would. I said yes, but I didn’t know what I was saying yes _to_ , until... he did it.”

“And then you couldn’t take it back?”

“Not without... you know. Ending it. Which I still didn’t want, and don’t.”

It’s shitty. It’s really shitty, and Poe wonders if he’d have been tricked, too. “What happened then?”

“He... he told me the basics, and then he left. You see, the older you are, the stronger you are. The more progeny you sire – and them, too – the stronger you are. So he never stays one place long, coasting from town to town to make as many of us as he can.”

“Was it here?”

The man shakes his head. “I’d be too... visible, not aging. I stayed a few years, but I wasn’t really happy. I couldn’t connect with people I used to know, so I moved. Tend to move on every ten years or so, so no one suspects.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I don’t know. If he’d told me the truth, would I have said yes? I honestly don’t know. I don’t kill people, so my conscience is clear, but I don’t...”

“Get to know people?”

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told about this.”

“So... no little baby vampires at home, huh?” Poe asks as lightly as he can, even though he is really very curious and not sure he could cope with a ‘yes’.

“No. I... no. Just me. I wouldn’t trick someone into it, or do it without them wanting it, too.” 

Poe notices the slight fray around one cuff, and the imperfection catches and holds his eyes, giving him something to stare at. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“I... uh. I’m not trying to... you know. Convince you. I just... you were so kind, and nice, and when I saw you were in trouble...”

A hand on his neck, rubbing automatically. He wonders what the other guy would have done. Drained him dry, or tried to turn him to increase his own power? He feels cold at the thought. “You’re lonely.”

A hiss, and Poe realises it’s almost a sob. Shit. He’d be lonely, thirty years without anyone to really talk to. He slides one foot to press his boot to Ky’s, and smiles at the size difference. 

“I promise you I don’t mean you any harm. I just... really hoped maybe you’d... be okay?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but I don’t know why.”

Oh dear. Poe reaches an arm over the other man’s shoulders, pulling him under for a hug. It’s a little awkward, and he’s not as warm as he should feel, but that’s no real problem. “You’re a ridiculously attractive man, and you – hey – you seem kind, too. You saved my damn life, and you’re brave enough to tell me these things. Why wouldn’t I still be around?”

Ky’s face turns, and it’s very, very close to his own. “Would... it be okay if I kissed you?”

The fact he asks... it’s cute. Maybe he needs the invitation after all, or maybe he’s just being polite. “If you promise not to bite,” he says, and then leans in to start them off anyway.

Ky’s lips are smooth and unchapped, though he’s definitely on the cooler side of warm. Poe likes the strangeness of it, and he slips his fingers between the clasp and his scalp, squirming into his hair. He pushes with his tongue, then slips past to touch those teeth. An odd little thrill of excitement as he traces the sharp lines, and then Ky pulls back.

“I don’t want you to think I’m... I mean...”

“Hey...” Poe strokes the backs of his fingers over one cheek. “You didn’t worry about that the first time, did you?”

“Well, no, but I did make myself look better, then. And – uh – I don’t... you know. Make people have sex with me. Before you worry. I... convince them to let me feed, but the other thing is totally on them.”

Hmm. Poe hadn’t even thought about that as a possibility. “Are you seriously the world’s most moral vampire?”

“Look, Mama might not have raised a smart boy, but she did teach me manners,” Ky huffs at him. “I only take blood without agreement, and even then, I make sure it feels good and they forget it. Just because I have to eat...”

“No, it’s not – I’m just amused,” he says, and sits back a little. “You have the power to make people do – what – anything? And you still seduce them properly?”

“...it wouldn’t be... enjoyable if I didn’t know they wanted it, too.” He shrugs. “Okay, and sometimes I wish my way out of speeding tickets, but...”

“You...” Poe claps both hands to his face, covering his eyes. “Speeding tickets.”

“Bureaucratic nightmare, when you’re legally twice your visible age.”

“...anything else? You sometimes jaywalk? Squeeze toothpaste from the middle?”

“Shut up,” Ky grumbles, but he’s smiling. 

“My place is harder to sneak you into. You okay with me coming to yours?” After all, he remembers the last time being plenty fun enough. And now he wants to see if Ky was holding back.  


	4. Chapter 4

Ky’s place is kind of strange, Poe muses, as they walk inside. Ky doesn’t make a show of inviting him, which is a missed gag, but not the end of the world. 

There is probably wallpaper somewhere, but it’s obscured by dozens of posters. Some are for movies, some are landscapes, and some are for bands. Quite a few posters look foxed around the edges, and the thumb-prints in the corners and slight curve from the walls suggest they move with him when he relocates.

There’s a bookcase filled with books, another with DVDs, and he actually... yep. He owns a CD rack. And are those VHS tapes? Seriously? Poe bites on the inside of his mouth to keep the laughter inside, feeling oddly like he’s trespassing on the past.

“Oh, shut up. You try keeping everything updated. I’ve got Netflix, isn’t that enough?” Ky asks.

“Sure, it’s just... it takes me back, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it: I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Okay, let’s leave those thoughts _way_ outside, can we? Or you won’t get any more kisses tonight.”

“Have to admit, it’s not one of my kinks, either.” Ky tosses his keys into a bowl by the door. “You need anything?”

“I was kind of hoping there might be... kisses?”

The man rolls his eyes, and nods to the couch. 

Like everything else here, it looks... well-off. Not ridiculously expensive, but the kind of things that will last. The leather creaks when they sit, and Poe stops investigating the room in favour of the man who occupies it.

“You’re not gonna get over-excited and bite me, are you?” Poe asks, as he puts a hand on Ky’s knee, stroking the thumb around his kneecap. 

“...honestly? I don’t know. I haven’t really... separated the two since I was turned.”

Poe swallows, and sits back. “Ah.”

“You could... tie me down?” Ky suggests, sounding a little on the desperate side.

“Tie you... you seem to have completely got the wrong idea about me.”

“I didn’t want to randomly... you know.”

“Does it hurt?” Shit, he shouldn’t be asking.

“A little, but it feels good pretty much straight after, from what I remember. And I make sure... I make sure people aren’t afraid, usually.”

“And if you did bite me? Would it show on any tests? Would I be any less healthy?”

“No more so than donating a pint at a blood bank.”

The whole point of a tall, dark, handsome and... _dangerous_ man is that he’s just that: dangerous. What’s the point in a declawed predator? 

“No marks?”

“By morning, no trace.”

“And you’ve never... gone too far?”

“Only when I was new. And then I just took a bit too much. They survived, but they were woozy for a while. I had to keep them in the apartment until they were okay.”

Poe leans in, his hand sliding up from knee, over his thigh. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“You already know _mine_.”

Fair. Poe pushes his nose to Ky’s ear, and rubs very gently. “ _I kinda like danger. It’s why I’m a pilot_.”

He thinks that’s obvious enough, and _invitation_ enough. Poe’s hand tries to reach for Ky’s groin, but it’s stopped by fingers around his wrist, tight and unyielding. He hesitates, and tries to sit back, only to find the other hand has clamped around the back of his neck, leaving him bent in a slightly undignified position.

Alright, now would be when any sensible person would panic, but Poe is not – and has never been – a sensible person. He swallows as Ky turns his head, and the breath that brushes his neck is chilled, deliciously so. This. This is dangerous. Right here, right now.

His heart is pounding so hard he could almost rumba to it, and he’s sure Ky can hear it. The long, aquiline nose runs against his skin, and Poe is oddly fascinated. Sure, there’d been the terror of the monsters under the bed, or in the woods... but a part of him had also wanted to look underneath the mattress. To stare danger in the eye, and to know he was... special. Special like all those fairy tales said you could be. 

And not just that, not just the desire to be the protagonist... but some sick love of risk. The same love that had him spinning his bird through nosebleed manoeuvres, or volunteering for missions he had no need to be on. That... call to the darkness, that... love of the void...

Ky kisses his throat, just under his ear, and Poe can’t even move his hand. He squeezes at the firm thigh below, but he can’t slide his palm up, or down. His other hand slides under the man’s shirt, cautiously stroking at his back. He’s suddenly aware that this vampire could entirely rip his will from him: could bend him into position, or force him to cut his own throat. Could make him do anything, _forget_ anything... and drain him dry. He’s utterly helpless, and damn, but it shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

“You want me to lose control?” Ky asks, punctuated by a little, lapping lick.

“M-maaaybe... just a... little...”

In a flurry, Poe’s on his back. His legs part, one pressed into the couch, the other draped over the edge. Kylo’s on top of him, heavy and solid. Poe’s hands move over his head without a touch, and he tests how hard they’re held, to find he can’t move them an inch. 

“Holy shit.”

“That’s the least of what I’m capable of.”

It’s impressive, and it definitely goes to his groin. Poe squirms, wishing he could touch, but thrilled he can’t. Knowing he can’t means he is aware of everything he _wishes_ he could be doing. He wishes he could run his fingers through that ever-unravelling mess of hair. Wishes he could pull him in for kisses. Wishes he could get to work on their clothing. Instead, he watches the man’s brown eyes flood with black.

“Tell me how I’ll know you want to stop,” Ky says, levelly. 

“Mission abort. That’s it.” Of course he has a safeword, or a phrase. He’s no idiot. “You’ll know.”

“Now is when you tell me... anything you need to.”

“Unless you’re guaranteed clean, then condoms. But I guess it might not be a problem?”

“Not a problem,” he confirms. “Don’t worry: my Maker was sincere about _that_ , if not the rest.”

Poe does like barebacking, but he also likes living without debilitating illness, so that’s a relief. He licks his lips, then: “No marks. And... that’s it.”

“None that will last til morning.” 

Oh yes. Poe arches his hips up, and moans at the feeling of chilled hands sliding over his hips and waist. Ky still has his hands pinned with invisible force, and his eyes glaze in bliss. He’s perfectly happy to top – it’s all fun – but this... is his ideal. Being taken over by someone far taller, broader, stronger. Made to enjoy, made to take it. Yep. 

His eyes light up as the fingers push his shirt up and over his head, tangling up around his elbows. He feels the cool of the room on his skin, and he realises Ky doesn’t have his heating on. Why would he? He’s undead. It makes his nipples reach for the ceiling, and the rub of thumbs over them only exacerbates the problem.

“... _yes_ ,” he whispers, head back to savour the touches. Just simple, but it makes his whole chest tingle. 

Ky’s thumbs whorl circles, and his lips go back to kissing the corner of his jaw, and the touches migrate around to the front of his throat. Soft, and delicate. Vulnerable. Across, and up to his other ear, nosing at it. 

Now the hands rake nails down his chest, making him moan and arc from the couch. He thrusts weakly from the waist, and when he gets one hand on his groin, the other on his belt, he laughs in delight.

Do it. Do it. Over and over, in his head. Touch me. 

Long fingers that slide across the bump in his pants, nails catching on the fabric. Poe’s not been this turned on in forever, and he whines because he can’t _touch_. The whining just gets the hand gripping his cock through his jeans, and then the belt is snicked open, and that hand glides beneath, plucking his waistband up and stroking fingertips over the curls below.

“Do you like to lose control?”

Poe gulps, and nods. “Y-yeah.”

“Does the idea of being unable to resist me make your blood bubble?”

A whimper, and another, furious nod. The words are spoken against the shell of his ear, and the sudden swipe of tongue has him pushing up and into the hand. It wraps around him, and he makes an entirely undignified sound.

“ _Please_.”

“What is it you want, Poe?”

“ _Everything_.”

There’s a scrape of teeth, but they don’t break his skin. It’s like the worst kind of torture, and shit, he hopes Ky doesn’t skip town after this. To find someone so attractive, so... powerful, and apparently so _kind_ as well as cruel? Every Christmas at once. In every timezone. Shit, shit, shit but he’s hot.

The hand around his cock strokes him out of his clothing, while the other pulls the jeans down and to his ankles. Poe squirms to help, and the jeans are kicked off, along with the boxers. He’s left in his boots and socks, with his shirt near his wrists. All but naked on this man’s couch, trying to fuck into his hand. 

When Ky starts to kiss his way down his chest, he nearly screams. Lips that pluck his nipple to bullet-hard, and hair that tickles as it strokes down around his face. He keeps up the stroking, and Poe digs his fingernails into his palms to offset the tension. Harder, harder, and he closes his eyes when those lips move to lightly mouth over the head of his cock.

What if he bites there? Or his inner thigh? Would it still hurt? Would he manage to get off? Would he _die_? 

Okay, unlikely to die, but it’s still a worry, even as delicate lips play over the crown of his dick. His tongue flickers back and forth like he’s strumming an instrument, and his hand keeps that slow, tight stroking.

“Please! Oh fuck, please!”

“Please what? You want me to suck you?”

Yes, no, yes, all the options in between. Poe can’t writhe much, but then there’s a sound of plastic snapping, and a moment later there’s a finger under his balls, stroking over his taint.

“Yes! Please, fuck yes!”

He isn’t used to being this desperate. He rarely finds anyone who is smoother than he is, and it’s a delight to feel himself fall apart between fingers and lips. A subtle rubbing, until his body parts to let him in, and then Ky is swallowing his dick down like it’s candy.

Oh sweet mercy. It’s strange not to be warm, but he finds the bite of cold to be oddly fascinating. Ky clearly knows what he’s doing, and he slurps and swirls, working his fingers in perfect counterpoint to the touches. It never truly stings, but feels full in that pleasant way that’s going to be necessary, if he intends on fucking him (which Poe well and truly hopes he does). Two fingers, three, and he’s one long, continuous moan of pleasure.

When did anyone last spend so long on him? On just making _him_ enjoy things? He can’t recall, and when the man slips from his cock with a slick-lipped smile, Poe’s legs part wider in offering. 

It’s still a little selfish, though. Of course it is. He presses down on the hand in him, and flutters his lashes. “Ky...”

“You’ll scream that louder,” he promises, pulling his fingers out. 

He’s still fully dressed, which is a travesty because he can see the muscles below the clothing, and he knows he’s ripped in all the right ways. But the odd counterpoint of being fucked by a man fully clothed is a hot transgression all of its own, and...

Oh yes. That. That is definitely a big one. Poe can’t help but stare at the cock that’s pulled free from clothing, admiring the veiny length. It’s full, fat, long... and it’s going to rip him in half. Poe plants his heels and tilts his hips some more, trying to look appealing. 

The whole ‘against his will’ thing is really a ridiculous fantasy. For the chance to feel that inside of him, he’d... well. He’d do quite a lot. Poe tries to wink his hole in what he hopes is an appealing manner, and then... yep. Hands bend his legs up and around his waist, and he’s yet again marvelling at the strength this man has.

The moment before he enters is the hardest bit, waiting, wondering. He feels the press of his cockhead over his entrance, and Poe bears down, trying to relax and – ah. Ah! Oh... “Right there... fuck, fuck yes... Ky please!”

He slides so slowly in, making Poe aware of every last inch of him. He’s probably never felt such a depth without resorting to toys before, and man... it’s addictive, already. He tightens, whimpering, and then feels him start up the slow, heady thrusts into his hole.

“So good,” Ky purrs. “So good for me. You know... men taste _so_ much better when they’re having sex.”

Poe laughs. “What did I taste like?”

“The sky... and electricity.”

It’s dumb, and corny, but it makes him smile so widely his face hurts. “You ever... twice?”

Ky shakes his head, and a little of that abashed boy comes back.

“You... wanna?”

Of course he does. Poe wants him to, too. He tilts his jaw just a little, offering. He remembers nothing but pleasure from their last time, so he’s sure this will feel good, too. Feel good, and keep Ky going. (And keep him from needing someone _else_.) He gulps, and feels the thrusting get rougher, less controlled.

 _Good_. That means he’s excited, too. Excited beyond the obvious stick poking his innards, that is.

More wisps of breath, and then there’s a firm, sure licking over his neck. Marking the spot, making it ready. Poe shoves his knuckles into the couch, and then he feels canines prick at his throat. Not enough to break the skin, but there, and he – stops breathing – gulps – until they push and push, and there’s a moment of bright, gushing pain. It is all he can feel for a heartbeat, or two. Not long enough to truly be unpleasant (though he thinks he might have said ‘ow’), and then there’s a sudden rush of blood out and the feel of lapping, laving kisses. Lips sealed around the wound, and Kylo’s drinking from him.

Poe isn’t sure how he should feel about it, but what he does feel is oddly light-headed and sparkly. Wet and squelchy noises, and the tongue and swallowing feel strangely erotic. It’s... it’s as good as getting head, and there’s no real pain, just a sense of whole-body euphoria, like flying. He’s silent, listening to the sounds of Kylo drinking, feeling the thrusts get more frantic and harsh. 

Between them, his cock is rubbed by the grinding, and he feels his eyes closing as the waves of pleasure slide down his neck, and up his spine, meeting in the middle. A shudder that seems to come from everywhere at once, like the moment before climax stretched out, without feeling painful. Lap, lap, lap. He wonders how it feels for Kylo, if it’s just like a good meal, or if it’s similarly as... sexual. The hands on his hips keep him still for the grinding, and Poe’s pretty sure he’s climaxed between them. It feels like he has, but he’s not sure, because it keeps feeling like it. 

Eventually, the licking stops, and his neck just feels lightly damp. Ky’s thrusting ends with a grunt, and he feels the slick of his come deep within him. Poe isn’t sure if his own cock is hard or not, but he just feels so warm and floaty, and he realises his hands are down, and around Ky’s neck.

“It will take a while to come down,” Ky says, licking blood from his lips. “There’s no rush.”

Poe smiles. And smiles. And smiles. He feels... incredible, and utterly, utterly safe. 

Yeah. He better _not_ skip town. Poe isn’t sure how he could ever be satisfied without this again. 


	5. Chapter 5

When Poe finally rejoins the land of the vaguely living (or, one and a half living), he’s still in Ky’s bed. Although his tall, fanged friend with benefits is a little cooler than most people, it turns out if you bundle up under the covers and snuggle into their neck and chest, that you don’t really notice the difference.

His neck doesn’t sting at all, and his fingers lift to stroke where there should be puncture wounds.

“They heal, within about ten minutes of feeding,” Ky explains at his confusion. “Helps to conceal our existence, I suppose. And prevent further risks. Something in our saliva that can heal minor abrasions.”

“You ever get hurt or sick?”

“I can get hurt if someone attacks me,” Ky says. “Silver doesn’t kill me, but it does sting.”

“I thought that was werewolves?”

“Well, I don’t have a tail, and I do prefer gold, even if it isn’t as nice-looking,” the man replies, his eyes rolling. “When I’m hurt, I heal fast.”

Poe still feels pretty buzzed, now he thinks about it. His ass is nicely thrumming, his heartrate level, but his whole being in that state of euphoria you get after a good run, or workout, or flight (or fuck). There’s a slightly glowy quality to the world, and a kind of silent music in his ribs. He feels borderline high, and he snuggles in closer, smelling the faint musk of Kylo’s hair. 

“How fast will I recover from you feeding?”

“Honestly, I take less than a blood bank would. You’d be fine now.”

“And you could do that again...?”

“In a couple of days, or a week. If... you were amenable.”

“Is it a problem if you eat the same person lots? Is it... boring?”

“No, it isn’t boring, though I have only fed a couple of times on the same person. I didn’t want to risk them getting at all anaemic, or suspicious.”

“So I’d be ready before you needed it? If... I was okay with it?”

“Yes. It’s common – so I’m told – for more established vampires to keep a—“

Poe senses the hesitation. “Pet?”

“I don’t really know what word would be least offensive, right now.”

“Hmm. Thrall? Companion? Bloodbag?”

“...companion seemed to be the least insulting of those options,” Ky says. “But yes, it’s apparently quite a common practice. I didn’t ask if they glamoured the people they kept with them. I... was more than a little annoyed with my Maker, after all.”

“Well, you didn’t glamour me, or did you?”

The man shakes his head. “No, I most certainly didn’t. I mean, other than the first time to make you forget the feeding, but other than that... nope.”

“And how would I know?”

“The best way to avoid it is to not make eye-contact. To wear headphones, if you can, and shades. Which would look a bit odd at night, or inside... but the headphones would help.”

“You sound like you speak from experience...”

“The iPod has a lot of hungry nights to answer for,” Ky says, sorrowfully. “But it’s better again, now. And the more open gay scene helps, too.”

“You... uh... only guys?”

“For food, no. For fun... yes.”

Poe stretches, cat-like, and runs his fingers over the other man’s hip, feeling the slight jut of bones. “And are you planning on skipping town, soon?”

“Not for a few years, no,” he replies. “Not unless I need to.”

“Not on my account. You saved my ass, remember? And then you definitely _reminded_ it.”

A little snort makes the bed vibrate, and Poe swings his leg up and over, moving to straddle the vampire’s lap. 

“I can’t lie and say you’re not very much my type. Maybe a bit shorter than I’m used to...”

“Hey! Not my fault you’re freakishly tall. And why did you hang around an Airforce base if you didn’t like short guys?”

“You’re too easy to tease.” Ky’s hands rub over his thighs, hip to knee and back again. “I like you plenty. And... it’s been a _very_ long time since I had someone to really talk to about this. Other vampires... they’re not always the most understanding, when there’s a feeding territory issue on the cards.”

“Well. I can’t say it isn’t weird, but... yeah, it was _fun_ weird. And if I’m not gonna risk myself in the cockpit, and... you aren’t planning on running out of town after getting my hopes up?”

“Did you just ask me to go steady?”

Poe snorts. “I think I just asked you to fuck me on the regular, and bite my neck as often as is healthy, but if it comes with cute boyfriend things... yeah. I’d be interested.”

“All on a second date.”

“Third. Second was saving my life.”

“However could I forget?”

“Did I thank you for that?”

“...I _think_ so.”

“Only ‘think’?” Poe smirks. “That’s not good enough of me.”

“Well, you _did_ agree to be my significant other, I think. Which could count.” 

“No wonder you’re vampire-single,” Poe complains. He shoves Kylo onto his back, both hands on that ample chest of his, enjoying the taut muscle as he slowly grinds his hips. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, okay?”

Ky nods, his brown eyes dark.

“You save a guy’s life? You wanna milk that. At least a little. Hells, you could dine out on that for...”

“Years?” Ky asks, his hands settling on Poe’s waist, urging the slow rock.

“Potentially,” he agrees. “Years and years of sinking your sharp teeth in... sucking so hard... man... can you even do it without draining someone?”

“Every time I feed, I stop myself from doing just that.”

“You think... next time you could do the tapas thing? You know: lots of little dishes, instead of one big meal?” Because Poe’s cock is definitely (wow, how?) stirring as he slides over that washboard of a stomach, and he wants that disgustingly filthy slurp at his throat again. 

“Definitely,” Ky agrees. “And let me tell you, there’s other places I can bite.”

“Yeah?”

One hand moves, the fingers (so long, so powerful) wriggling ticklishly over his belly, and circling around his half-hard cock. The fingers keep walking, and then push in, hard, at the crease of his groin. “Right there. Femoral artery. _Incredible_ to feed from there. Very, very intimate.”

“It doesn’t... make things go soft?”

“Not if you put a cockring on,” Ky insists. “Get the cock nice and hard, and then sink your teeth in. Fingers still working your shaft as I eat...”

“ _Fuck_.” He wants that. He wants that _now_ , and he tries to climb up to sit astride the man’s mouth, but he’s held in place. “Hey!”

“You need to not go too fast.”

“Fuck it, you can’t tell a guy you’ll do filthy shit like that, then say no!” Okay, so he can, but it’s still rude. Poe whines, grabbing his own cock, gripping tight and stroking his thumb along the length. “Can’t we?”

“I can’t take too much, or it might cause you career difficulties.”

“So just – just take a bit!” he laughs, and arches his back, stroking his cock so Ky can watch. He lids his eyes heavily, pouting his lips in what he hopes is a sultry manner. “You can do that, can’t you?”

The thumb rubs over the thud of his pulse, and Poe moans at the threat and promise combined. Damn, but it’s addictive. He’s being absolutely ridiculous, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. A lover with an incredible body, terrifying stamina, a dick worth poetry, and he never gets old? Sure, he’s not going to go on a beach holiday, but that’s no big. 

Ky’s hands slide around to his ass, and pluck his cheeks apart. Poe moans, feeling the sticky load inside of him squelch, and he walks up and over Ky’s chest, settling just astride his neck. The fingers keep tugging, and then two fingers rub at his puffy circle as his lips kiss all along the insides of his thighs. Poe pushes his fingers into Ky’s dark hair, scrunching over his scalp, and wonders if it will hurt more, there? Surely it’s more sensitive?

His balls bump into the other man’s chin, and his cock hardens further at the soft touches, and the sudden squirm of a finger into his still-slick hole. Poe moans, and then howls as teeth sink into his thigh. For a minute, it’s just pain. He can’t feel any licking or sucking, just the pounding of his heart. It’s bright, sharp, exploding pain... and then he realises Ky’s filling his mouth, gulping the flood in one. His tongue moves, and the pain shifts again, sparkling like bubbles in champagne. He grabs his cock in one hand, the other still in Ky’s hair. Two fingers inside, prising him wide and gaping to the air, and he’s stroking himself furiously fast. 

“Ky! Don’t stop! Don’t... oh... _yes yes yes_!”

He’s never recovered this fast, so it must be some weird vampire-thing, but whatever it is, it has him hard and juddering, stroking his cock to quick, messy spurts. He’s embarrassed he came so fast, but that goes away when Ky swipes the traces up, and his hand vanishes.

Oh. _Right_. He can see the muscular arm working as Ky slicks his own cock up, and Poe (dreamily, happily) waddles backwards, pushing his rump at the hand and dick. 

“Please...” 

The smear of blood trails down over Ky’s chest, but the wound has already healed. He braces as the head is pushed back inside, and moans as he feels himself filled to the root. The full length inside him, and he’s too sleepy-happy to move. 

“Oh... so good... _so good_ ,” he purrs, enjoying the stretch, the fullness. His cock’s flagging sadly, but he can still enjoy the penetration, even if he can’t climax. He tries to move, but he’s light-headed and dizzy, and instead he settles for holding Ky’s arms as he’s bounced in place, feeling each downstroke like a lick of flame up his spine. 

“So beautiful,” Ky whispers. “So beautiful. Love to see you like this.”

How can he talk at a time like this? Poe can barely keep his eyes open, let alone form words. He nods, and he’s not sure at what point in the grinding he starts to slip out of his mind, but he feels the pleasure drive him deeper, deeper, deeper into the bliss in his mind. 

It’s bliss. It’s beyond bliss. He never wants to stop. 


	6. Chapter 6

It’s literally been days. Poe’s not had a serious relationship before, not really. Well, not in years. 

And it’s odd to think that the only reason he’s in one now is that he’s banging a Vampire. Which - apparently - exist. 

Ky had warned him that feeding could be addictive for them both, and Poe had to agree. Even the first night, he’d wanted Ky to do it over and over, and only the whispered ‘that’s enough’ in his ear had stopped him begging. 

It’s so strange. Poe’s never been one to get addicted to _things_ , though he has got a definite thrill-seeking problem. He misses his bird if he’s not in the cockpit for too long, and he doesn’t do well on his own for extended periods, needing company or feeling bored and lonely. But he’s never drunk to excess (well, more than for special occasions, but not as a rule), and he doesn’t do drugs, he just…

Likes a guy biting his jugular or femoral artery, draining some of his blood, and sealing him up again. Whilst fucking him so hard his balls practically slap out the tune to _Hallelujah_. Happily.

At least Ky is down with modern technology. He’d sent him texts whenever he could, trying to tone it down so he didn’t seem clingy, but smiling every time he got one back pretty much instantly. 

And _forcing_ himself to wait at least _one minute_ so he didn’t look pathetic.

Okay. He’s got a really big crush. Ky is smart, and sweet, and brave, and fucking sexy as hell. He’s not demanding, he doesn’t have any unreasonable expectations. He’s not asked Poe for anything he hasn’t been ready to do or give, and… 

It’s just. Good. It’s good spending time with him. He makes Poe laugh, and scream with pleasure. And maybe he’s just a little bit in love, but Ky seems to enjoy his company just as much, and–

Poe’s hopping one foot through his civvies, trying to dress and run, when a locker door opens right in front of his face. He ducks under it, only to walk into Snap.

“Uh, hey, buddy…”  


“Poe.”  


“I’m kinda–”  


“Running off to see that boyfriend of yours.”  


Boyfriend. Well. He does spend most of his nights at Ky’s place, when he can get off-base, it’s true. And he sits and texts him from the mess hall. And he thinks about him all the time. And…

“Yeah, and?”  


“Don’t you think you’re… going about this a bit fast?”  


“No?”  


Snap - reliable old Snap - grabs him by the forearms and man-handles him onto the locker bench. He looms, as much as someone so affable and fluffy can, arms folded. “I need to talk to you about this.”

“…okay?”  


“I just… I’ve never seen you like this before. And I want to make sure you’re… you know.”  


“Snap, you realise gay guys can date like straight guys, right?”  


“Yeah, and if you were straight and went from casual to suddenly kinda obsessive, I’d be talking to you. And hell, maybe even if Jess started that, too. But she’d probably punch me.”  


Poe relaxes a little, then, when he understands the concern isn’t motivated from thinking Poe’s sexuality is at all underneath this. Little does his best friend know that it’s the Vampire thing that he should worry about.

“I’m not being… okay, maybe I’m a bit fast, but I like him. A lot. And he seems to like me, and he isn’t… he’s nice to me. I have fun with him. He never makes me feel uncomfortable, or awkward, or sad. I feel good when I’m with him, and I want to enjoy that, while I can.”  


Snap’s arms fall, and his face is a complicated mix of happy-sad. “You deserve some happiness, Dameron. I just… I’m sorry I’m being all Big Brother on you, but you’ve done it for all of us, and we just want you to know…”

“You’re looking out for me.” Poe smiles. “Yeah. I appreciate it, and if I ever think we’re in trouble, or I’m not sure, I’ll ask you for help.”  


It’s nice knowing his squad will not judge him. Real nice. Poe stands back up again, and grabs Snap’s arm. 

“I’ll punch him if he hurts you, just so you know. I’m not above hitting a guy.”  


“…and would you hit a girl?”  


“…depends what she did,” Snap admits. “If she deserved it, probably.”  


“Right answer.” Not that hitting people is really a solution to anything, but if you’re going to hit one person for something _horrible_ , then you should be prepared to do it to everyone, Poe thinks.   


“Well… good talk.”  


“Okay, now can I go see my… boyfriend?”  


“Yes,” Snap laughs. “You can go see him. But tell him about the punching thing.”  


“I’ll make sure he knows.”   


Yep. Maybe he is being a bit fast, but… damnit. He’s not sure slowing down would help. Ky seems about as happy in their relationship as he is, and he’s not doing anything _stupid_ , or that he’d regret. If they broke up tomorrow, would he want to have liked him less so it hurt less? No. He’d have wanted to wring every drop of happiness from their relationship that he could.

So. Yes. This is happening. And he has a date tonight. 

With his _boyfriend_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A third party uses a slur. DC does not approve of slurs. But assholes exist.

“You sure this isn’t a problem?”  


“I’m sure. It’s fine, Poe.”  


“Okay. Okay…” Don’t be nervous. Don’t be nervous. If you panic it will be obvious something is wrong.  


“Poe… look. We’re not in high alert. Unless you actually think he’s a risk to national security…?”  


“No, he’s not.” Anything but.   


“Then stop worrying. Your boyfriend can join us for drinks.”  


***

This is the first time Poe’s actually brought a significant other to a squad thing. Being the Commanding Officer means he has to be careful anyway, but also - well - no one’s been… good enough.

But Ky is. Holy hell is he ever. 

It’s almost as bad as bringing him home to meet his dad, but that’s probably a way off, just because of geographical constraints. And if Ky passes their muster, then his dad will be fine with it. 

Ky looks as nervous as he feels.

“You’re too old to panic,” Poe says, as they pay for the first round of beers. Ky’s agreed to drive to excuse his lack of alcoholic consumption, but he still needs to nurse an alcohol-free beer for appearances.  


“You think it gets any easier with time?”  


“Well… yes? You’re gonna tell me being an adult _doesn’t_ magically get better?”  


“It doesn’t. Well, the internet is helping, but people stuff doesn’t get any easier.” Ky shrugs. “And you know I haven’t… I mean, _you_ know about me, but–”  


“Yeah. Don’t worry, though. I’m not going to introduce you like that.”  


“Please don’t. I don’t want to have to throw you over my shoulder and take you to a weird old shack in the middle of nowhere.”  


“…would there be wifi?”  


Ky snorts, and kisses his temple, and they go over to sit with the group. The beers will help lubricate the situation. Here goes nothing.

***

Apparently a good way to get everyone to like him is for Ky to keep getting the drinks in, and asking the pilots to regale him with stories. Ones that _can_ be shared, of course. 

Like the time Snap ‘borrowed’ a bomb disposal robot for a while. Or the time Jess Rickrolled everyone at Mach 3. Or…

Well. Pilots like to talk. Poe keeps bumping his knee against Ky’s, and feeling… happy. Good. He’s got his work-friends and his boyfriend and everyone seems happy and it’s all freaking… great. 

He’s maybe a bit too drunk, because when he turns his head the world lags for a moment before the image catches up to his inner ear. The world feels pretty bright and lens-flarey, like a JJ Abrams movie, and where is his boyfriend?

Oh. At the bar.

Where.

Uh.

That’s… Simmons. Isn’t it? It is. Flight Lieutenant Simmons. He has a hand on Ky’s shoulder, standing way too close. 

Adrenaline floods through Poe, first of all concerned in case Simmons is a homophobic asshole. He doesn’t know him well enough, but he can read that Ky’s not in a particularly good mood with the approach, and:

“I think I can take it from here,” Poe says.  


“Oh, no, little taco, you’re way too short to ride this ride,” Simmons slurs.  


He’s had more to drink than Poe has, and his hand goes to grab at Ky’s ass.

Okay, maybe if he’d thought about this in advance he would realise Ky could look out for himself, but - nope. Rage clouds his mind and his strong right hook hurls out and–

Weirdly finds itself checked in a flat palm.

Poe turns his head, and realises Ky’s stopped him from assaulting the asshole, and that’s… kinda… fucking hot. Shit. _Shit_ that’s hot. 

“So don’t you touch my boyfriend again!” he snarls, and then grabs hold of Ky’s collar, pulling him in for a kiss before the words are even all gone.   


Two heartbeats later and he’s been backed up to the wall by the - who even has a jukebox anymore, anyway? - leftmost speaker, hands in his hair and hair in his hands as they kiss like there’s no tomorrow. 

There’s a whoop and a holler from over in the squadron’s corner, and Poe flips them a loving bird as he continues being rocked into the wall, a knee between his thighs and teeth in his lip.

“Think they can get a cab?” Ky asks.  


“Think they can fucking flap and fly for all I care,” Poe replies. “Your place. _Now_.”  



End file.
